


Not Today

by Aiyestel



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Angst, Awakening, Betrayal, Dragon Age - Freeform, Gen, Healing, Origins, Tension, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-12
Updated: 2012-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 10:06:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aiyestel/pseuds/Aiyestel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during the events of Awakening. Nathaniel and Cadhla Cousland were childhood friends but events and broken trust are all that links them now. Now part of the same order they struggle with finding some semblance of healing to repair what has been broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Today

It was a day of indecision; a day when the sky was a brilliant sapphire one moment and a mass of roiling storm clouds the next. A day when the wind tore through the keep like a wild thing intent on breaking all that refused to bend before it. She had disappeared that morning but somehow he knew where to find her. They had been friends once, a lifetime ago and old habits died hard, especially from memory.  
“How does one mend fences they never meant to break?” he asked as he settled himself down near her.

The book in her lap was open but had been forgotten some time ago seeing as it was still flipped to the same page it had been on when they had exchanged a brief conversation the evening before. Her grey eyes were focused on some distant place—Denerim, he supposed. They were wide and unseeing as they stared out across the countryside.

“How does one ask forgiveness for an act she would commit again?”

He should be used to it. She had a knack for answering his questions with more questions. Of course she asked the one question he knew would be coming and the one question he had hoped she wouldn’t ask. Thus began this dance they did. He would sigh. She would rub the scar along her hair line, just a silver blemish from one of her numerous childhood adventures. It was like a tradition between the two.

Silence stretched between them as neither found a suitable answer. It settled in among the cracks and wounds left by years of hurt and mistrust. Countless nights had seen this conversation played through in his head and still he could not imagine anything she could say that would help him to heal the pain he felt. He was certain she felt the same way. When the deaths of loved ones lay between two people words seemed wholly insufficient.

Maybe this had been a bad idea. He should have taken his life and run when she gave him the chance. Her grey eyes had held so much behind them when she had opened the cell door and offered him freedom in the face of his death threat. Anger, betrayal, disgust. Those emotions he had expected. It was the regret that had startled him most. He couldn’t fathom the reason she would feel it. It wasn’t until much later that he realized the regret was over something completely different than he had first imagined.

“You are a brother in arms, Nathaniel. I will always have your back.”

She was staring at him—no, not staring at him, seeing through him. “If it weren’t for the wardens would you still say the same?” he asked.

A moment passed, just enough time for the sharp inhale of a breath being drawn to break the still. “I do not hold you accountable for your father’s sins.”

It was the best she could offer.

“That is not an answer,” he replied.

“It is all I can give you.”

He looked up and their eyes met. It was a simple exchange; a brief lock that ended as quickly as it had happened but it was something that hadn’t occurred for a long time. Since their fateful reunion not so many months past she had refused to meet his gaze and he had defiantly avoided hers. Perhaps this was some small step forward. Whether it was in the right direction or not remained to be seen.

Trust was such a fragile creature. It took years to build but only the span of a moment to break. It could be shattered under the pressure of the slightest notion, the barest action or lack thereof. And though it may have been the product of an accident the damage was often irreparable. Nothing but time could tell if there was any hope of saving it.

Time. It wasn’t something granted to the wardens in any abundance. It seemed more fleeting the older he grew and the tighter he tried to hold on to it. It filled brief moments, stretched sleepless nights and obscured any vision of the future that might have revealed more than time wished to share.

Eventually he pushed himself to his feet.

“I regret—” Her voice was soft. He almost missed it. She cleared her throat, swallowed the lump that had risen in it and started again. “I regret that pain you feel, Nathaniel, but I can’t be sorry…”

The trust between them was gone. It had been mauled by actions beyond either of their control. Neither was to blame and both knew it but still they had not healed. Maybe they never would.

“I regret too,” he admitted. He regretted his father’s schemes, his father’s greed. He cursed the betrayal that stood like an ocean between them; the deaths that had ripped their friendship and their families apart. He regretted it all.

But time had not planned for a reconciliation this day. Perhaps down the road when old wounds were salved with new memories made, when old betrayals were forgotten in light of new heroics. Maybe then they would heal.

But not today.


End file.
